


Square Peg

by Rochelle_Templer



Category: The Monkees, The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 19:11:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12217149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rochelle_Templer/pseuds/Rochelle_Templer
Summary: Mike had often felt like he didn't belong...especially in situations like this....





	Square Peg

Mike hadn’t wanted to come in the first place.

Members of Peter’s family had come to Malibu for a visit and had insisted on taking Peter and his friends to dinner. That dinner ended up being an evening at an expensive restaurant. Micky was happy to stuff his face with lobster and shrimp. Davy was happy to have a chance to flirt with two of the waitresses who worked there. Peter was happy to have some of his family spend the day with him, even if they were very different from him personality-wise.

The problem was that Mike wasn’t having very much fun at all. True, he was glad to enjoy a filling meal for a change, but that was the only thing he could enjoy. Focusing on anything other than his food meant being reminded of how much he didn’t belong there. Not among people who had been to exciting places, who had gone to expensive schools and universities, or who were adept at being graceful and witty while socializing.

Micky and Davy were able to adjust to the high class settings with plenty of jokes and stories to keep everyone at the table entertained. Meanwhile Mike sat quietly and concentrated on being neat and composed.

“And what do you do in Peter’s band, Michael?” one of Peter’s cousins asked. Mike cleared his throat and took a sip of water before answering.

“I, uh, I play guitar,” the Texan answered. “Sometimes, I sing a little too. That’s all.”

“Oh come on, you do a lot more than that, Mike,” Davy chimed in. “He lines up most of our gigs. Manages our pay. Stuff like that too.”

“Yeah, we’d probably all be broke if it weren’t for Mike,” Micky said in between bites of potato.

“That’s not, I mean….,” Mike said, fidgeting with his napkin. “Sure, I do that stuff, but, um, it’s no big deal or anything.”

“Well young man, that’s not the attitude of a go-getter who will make a name for his group,” another cousin added. “How do you expect to sell your services to others when you aren’t even convinced of your own worth? Being confident…that’s the way to make an impression.”

“I suppose it is,” Mike replied softly.

“But Mike already makes an impression,” Peter insisted. “Nobody ever forgets his green hat. And remember what Mom said about his posture?” The bassist leaned back in his chair and sent Mike the widest possible smile. “Mike always finds work for us. Even if it takes a month or more.”

“Thanks Pete,” Mike said with as much of a smile as he could muster. He understood what the bassist was trying to do even if it didn’t sound too good while Peter was saying it.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself out here in California, dear,” Peter’s aunt said, patting the bassist’s hand.

“I am,” Peter said, his grin growing wider yet. “Mike takes care of the important stuff and then everything works out. Like that time spies were tampering with Davy’s maracas….”

Peter narrated the story of when they had tangled with spies trying to smuggle secrets out of the country using musical instruments with Davy and Micky providing the needed clarifying details. Mike was touched that Peter believed in him so much. It seemed like no matter how many mistakes he made; Peter always assumed that the Texan could fix anything.

Sadly, this was also the cause of too many sleepless nights. Nights Mike spent wondering when a problem would come along that he couldn’t fix. Nights spent wondering when the guys would figure out that he wasn’t as smart or as resourceful as they thought he was.

Nights spent worrying about the moment when Peter would look at him with disappointment rather than with happiness and hope.

“Hey Mike, tell them,” Peter said excitedly. “Tell them about that time you blew up a fireplace so that Micky could fool those crooks into thinking that he wasn’t Micky.”

“I’m sure y’all could do a better job at that than I could, Shotgun,” Mike chuckled. “I’m bettin’ Micky will want to start that off anyway.”

“Ok Michael,” Peter said with another warm smile. “Micky?”

Micky sat up a little straighter in his chair as he began his latest Cagney impression to start things off. Mike smiled again as he listened, over that and over the latest look of admiration Peter had given him. Then he went back to eating silently, making sure to savor each bite.

It was pointless to dwell too much on what might happen tomorrow. Especially when dwelling on it tapped into old fears and even older hurts.


End file.
